A Shared Burden
by Escorregadia
Summary: Nothing could relieve Eragon of the burdens that rested on his shoulders...except another Rider who is unwilling to take up the mantle. Can he persuade her to step up?
1. The Nightmare

Eragon frowned and rolled over in his sleep as the nightmare became more vivid and macabre -

_He was on all fours, his head hung limply between his shoulders. Blood dripped down his arms and face, and in the tears of his tattered armor. _

_Suddenly his head jerked up and his pained, but still murderous glare locked onto his adversary and gave him a look of pure hatred; the very air seemed to sizzle._

_Then an agonized moan made his gaze flick over to a woman with dark hair, a few meters away from the confrontation._

_She looked no better...or worse...than him. Her hair was hanging in lanky, bloodstained locks that draped over her delicate face, neck, and pointed ears._

_A bloodthirsty rage welled up inside him and he raised a gleaming sword and let out a throat-wrenching war cry. He stood and roared at his enemy, sending an electric blue shockwave out from his body._

_His eyes were glowing as he swung his sword and-_

Eragon sat bolt upright with a gasp as the nightmare's effect finally jolted him awake; his blanket was twisted into ropes but still covering him. A hand instinctively twisted over his shoulder and felt the back of his neck for his scar. He let out a sob of relief when he couldn't find the troublesome ailment.

His breathing was heavy and deep as he raised his knees and rested his head on them.

The heat of The Burning Plains provoked most of the men - and some women - to sleep nude, and Eragon was no exception. He just hoped no-one - especially Arya or Nasuada - walked in on him...unless it was Saphira.

She used one ivory talon to move enough of the tent flap to stare at him. He must look a mess...  
_Are you alright little one?_ she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

He looked up at her vivid blue eye that was peeking through the tent opening and he could see his reflection mirrored there; his hair was ruffled and a few stray locks still clung to his forehead and nape with sweat. His face was pale and he could feel his arms shaking.

_Yes. I just had...a bad dream... _he replied.  
_I know...I felt it too,_ she assured him with a snort.

Then she gave him a sympathetic - almost pitying - look. Of all of Saphira's words, expressions or thoughts, this hurt the most.

Eragon turned his face away from her, hiding the grimace of pain. _Go Saphira. I'm getting up now,_ he said in a falsely commanding voice. Saphira nodded and then let the tent flap drop.

Eragon sighed as he wrapped his blanket around his hips before he swung his legs over the edge of his cot and stood, yawning and stretching. He ran a hand through his already sand-gritted hair.

He tied the blanket around his waist sarong style and retrieved the leather hide strips he used to secure the tent opening.

When he had finished, he let the blanket slide to the ground and knelt beside his pack, and began pawing through it, looking for a clean pair of breeches. He pulled out his soft doeskin pair, and quickly shucked them on.

He rummaged through his pack again, now searching for a tunic - it was far too hot to wear a shirt; it was barely half an hour after the sun had risen and already it was boiling! He found a pale blue tunic, rested it and Beloth the Wise over his shoulder, wriggled into his boots, then made an effort to make his hair stay flat.

He untied the tent flaps and flinched at the wave of heat, light, and wind that bombarded him in the face.

He glanced around and found Saphira lolling about near Nasuada's tent. He pulled on his tunic and tied Beloth loosely around his hips and made his way toward her. She was resting her large head on her forepaws, her tail slowly coiling and uncoiling. Solumbum was sprawled spread-eagled underneath one of Saphira's wings which he was using as a parasol.

Even though it was early, people were already scurrying about on their daily routine. Eragon watched them, a disbelieving frown making its way onto his face.  
_What is it Eragon?_ Saphira asked, without moving.  
_I slept through this noise? Unbelievable!_ he shook his head.  
_It's true...I was wondering that myself. Oh! By the way! Arya asked me to tell you that she would like to spar with you. She has a sword you can use since you don't have Zar'roc with you._ At this, She opened one blue eye, then closed it, making a chuckling noise in the back of her throat.

Eragon smiled privately to himself. He'd been hoping this would happen. He'd really wanted to pit himself against her with his newfound elven strength. He threw a gentle hug around Saphira's neck before he trotted off toward the large 'field' they used to practice.

He spotted Arya immediately and made his way toward her, watching as she took a deep breath, then, with her feet together and with nothing to prevent her from overbalancing, she arched smoothly over backward.

Her eyes met his and she instantly whirled upright again. She touched two fingers to her lips and Eragon mimicked her, his gaze never wavering like it used to. He knew she hadn't called him here just for a spar...

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I edited it! Yippee! No spelling mishaps! Woot!


	2. Unintentional Traitor

'Saphira said you requested my presence?' Eragon asked, raising a dark brow at the unreadable elf. Her expression remained the same as she seemed to digest his words before she answered, 'Yes as a matter of fact...I did. Have you been scrying lately?'

The question caught Eragon completely off guard and he stumbled over the answer, 'Uh...n-no. Why? Did something happen?' Suddenly his attitude became curious; if someone had tried to scry them it would mean big trouble for the Varden...if the scrier was an enemy.

Arya seemed to be thinking along those lines and said with a slightly maternal tone, 'The scrier was most definitely NOT an ally...I told my mother to inform every possible ally not to scry for me unless they received permission. So, this someone is trying to find out how strong our forces are...but the person they targeted was...surprising to say the least.'

Eragon had his full attention focused on Arya's next words. When she didn't say anything, he asked, 'Well? Who did they scry?' In his curiosity he had taken a step forward, and he vaguely noticed - with some amusement - that he had grown almost three inches taller than Arya.

She stalled, wringing her hands. This surprised Eragon; he'd never seen her so unsecure before. Finally she took a deep breath and said, 'Angela.'

Eragon stared and froze at the same time, giving him a rigid pose. 'Angela...' he breathed. Arya nodded, then glanced around to make sure none of the humans or dwarves nearby eavesdropped.

Eragon ran a hand through his hair, feeling the grittiness of it, then tugged slightly, mulling it over. Why would they target Angela? Of all people? 'She was covered in armour! And the only soldiers that had seen her face, all died merely moments later! Who saw her then?' Then it hit him.

Murtagh.

His brother.

The traitor...even unintentionally.

Arya must have seen the look of pain and grief that flashed across his face for she nodded and tried to regain her composure. She half succeeded when Eragon suddenly lost his. His knees gave way underneath him as the torrents of extreme emotion washed through him. Hatred. Fear. Malice. All were tearing through him, battering down his emotional defenses.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw as he vowed he wouldn't shed a tear over his brother.  
_What is wrong little one? What is it?_ asked Saphira, with an obvious note of concern in her voice.  
_Murtagh has been scrying...or trying to scry Angela. He's the only one that has seen her face and lived to tell it to the Empire. All the soldiers that faced her died_, he replied, his telepathic voice quivering with disbelief and anger.

Saphira was silent for a moment then said, _Please do not hold onto things like this and dwell on them. It will only make you angrier and more violent. That is one thing the Varden and the elves do_ not _need._

_Easy for you to say! You don't have a brother that betrayed you and everything that you used to fight for!_ he yelled at her, immediately regretting it. He knew she felt the emotion waves and forgave him.

He could hear a voice calling him from a distance and he realized it was Arya'a voice. He had focused all his attention inside him and was completely oblivious to what was going on around him. He cursed mentally and then forced his concentration outwards.

Arya was crouching before him, her hands on either side of his face, calling his name urgently. He opened his eyes - he didn't even realize he had closed them - and stared wide-eyed at her. She let out a sigh of relief then, 'What happened? You kind of went blank...although you cried and muttered foul words in the Ancient Language,' then she said in a softer tone, 'are you alright Eragon?'

He wiped a hand across his cheek and sniffed when she had been correct. He _had_ been crying. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd lost two litres of body fluids in the last four minutes.

'I'm sorry...It's just...the subject of Murtagh, is still raw. It hurts Arya. And I can't get rid of the hurt,' he said. He closed his eyes exhaustedly and seemed to slump slightly. Arya looked a little awkward as she gently embraced him, making sure his head rested on her shoulder.

Eragon was stunned and let her have her way, although Arya's comforting was...well...comforting. Her embrace was so tender, he gave way to the grief that had been pounding at him these past few days, and she rocked him like a child and whispered soothing words into his ear as he cried.

He clutched her to him, albeit feebly and for once didn't try to be strong, didn't pretend that it wouldn't - couldn't - affect him. Saphira sent calming emotions to him, and that subdued him somewhat.

Eventually, the sobbing became weeping, and the weeping became clean, healing breaths. Even when he had stopped, they didn't let go. Eragon's grip had tightened and Arya was stroking the hair at his nape.

'Arya...what else were you going to tell me?' he asked into the thick, soft hair at her neck, trying to stall the end of their meeting. It seemed she didn't want to respond at that moment and simply kept playing with his hair.

Finally, she said, 'Nasuada and Solembum wanted you to help me and Du Vrangr Gata place wards around the Varden and our allies...if you wouldn't mind of course.' Eragon slumped more at the idea of more work and Arya got the strain. But she didn't move away; but she did brace herself against him, which meant pressing her body against his.

Eragon accepted this with a small sigh and breathed in Arya's scent deeply, savoring the way it tickled his senses. He ran his hands up and down her back, tracing his thumb down her spine. When he got to the small of her back, instinctively, she arched, unconsciously pressing herself even closer to him.

He pulled his head back to look at her expression; it was bemused, with a hint of excitement. Suddenly it all became too much, and she was irresistible. He leaned down and covered her mouth with his. She offered token resistance at first, then melted toward him. She was sweeter than he imagined.

She tasted like cinnamon and honey. She smelled like freshly crushed pine needled and pine sap, even though the harsh desert wind should have swept it away. Not surprisingly, he wanted more. Saphira was shouting warnings to him to stop, but he was taking no heed. Arya wasn't resisting him for once...wasn't rejecting his advances. Even though this should have intrigued him, he thought about nothing, other than the elven woman in his arms.

Arya responded with gusto, locking her arms around his neck, pulling his head down. She opened to him and he didn't need any other invitation than that. His kiss began to gentle to a tender, thank you, I-don't-need-anyone-else-except-you kiss.

Then, a burning sensation around his neck broke the spell. Eragon pulled away, yanking the silver hammer out from underneath his tunic and holding it away from his skin. He chanced a glance at Arya, and saw her shake her head futilely.

His heart sank. She was regretting it now, even though he wasn't. He had no right to do that. Brisingr! _No-one_ had the right to do that! But he had...and now he'd have to pay the price. Saphira lent him some of the formidablle energy from her body as he felt himself become weaker.

The person on the other end of the scrying spell, suddenly got very angry and sent out a wave of the spell, that made Eragon wince.

Arya, let out a disgusted sigh and stood, whirled, than ran back to her tent, with his calls at her heels. '_Damn_...' he muttered, and pounded a fist into a stone. It cracked right down the middle and earned him three split knuckles. He didn't feel like healing them yet in case he needed the energy to ward off the scryer.

It ebbed away unexpectedly and Saphira closed her mind to him, simmering disbelief fueling her disappointment at him.

It was more than he could take.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooo

Well...there you go...hope you likes it! It was improvised so SHUT UP if I did something wrong...


	3. Mhyre

Sorry it took so long...I CORRECTLY SPELLED EVERYTHING TOO! For a change...Anyway, this is chapter three, introducing an OC. Arya is meant to be acting like a lovesick...thing. This chapter killed my brain...I will try to keep a regular pace at updating...yay! Something to look forward to after work! Enjoy...

Chapter Three...

Mhyre glanced around once more before dropping silently down into the cellar. Once again she had been sent to do more thieving...not that she didn't like it. Stealing was her life! Literally.

She slowly placed the cellar door down over her head, and dropped down into a crouch and catlike, made her way to the door that led inside to the house above.

To anyone who hadn't been here before, the cellar door was invisible to the outside, but for Mhyre, who had been told specifically where it was, had had no trouble finding it.

She rested a hand on the hilt of a dagger, an exact twin to the other, which was hanging from the opposite hip. It gave her comfort and she inhaled deeply, then lifted the door that led to the manor.

She crouched, then leaped out - in the letter that had been sent, it had remarked that the top stairs had a purposeful creak to them - and placed the door back down.

She let her eyes become accustomed to the darkness - which didn't take long - and scanned the area she was in. It seemed to be at the back of the house, where no-one would expect it to be.

She smiled wryly to herself; these nobles were smart. As she stood to her full height, she spied the end of the hallway/corridor that seemed to lead to the main section of the house.

Thanking her ancestry, she made her way to the large hallway. She stifled a gasp; everything was made of oak - polished oak. These people were rich. _Even better,_ she thought, _more to steal._ She crept to the stairs, but decided against actually walking up them.

She spied the railing, then, crouching again, leaped up onto it, gaining equilibrium before she fell onto the expensive crockery on a table beneath.

She didn't raise her arms like a novice would; this was a cinch, but she did extend her elbows out and her arms forward slightly, like you would when half-crouching on a tree branch, except she was upright, her back only slightly bent.

Balancing on the balls of her feet, she started walking up the railing, quickly, yet silently, as deft as an alley cat. When she got to the top of the stairs, she lightly bounced off the wall and landed on all fours.

Her long, dark brown, almost black hair fell into her eyes, irritating her - one day she would have to get it cut - and she brushed it away, tying it back with a leather lace. Anyone who saw her, wouldn't be able to identify her anyway; she had a black stripe across her eyes, giving her a feral, tribal look.

Her eyes were what made people unsettled; they were a lavender purple, with a ring of magenta around the iris. Sure they were conspicuous, but she usually kept her eyes half-closed when someone even came close to seeing her eyes.

She slunk to each door, merely running her 'magical' hand over it to sense what was inside. Many were bedrooms or sleeping quarters, but she finally came to the study. She pulled out her roll of tools and equipment from her back, and chose a lock pick.

It took only a moment and a soft 'click' told her that the door was now unlocked. She opened it slowly and slid inside, glancing about her to make sure she wasn't being tailed.

The window was open; an extra bonus! A quick way to get out or hide. She smirked then light-stepped over to the large - oak - desk that was the highlight of the room and studied its exterior, looking for hidden compartments.

When she pressed against a suspicious looking nick that had splintered, she was rewarded twice that night with another audible 'click'. She searched around the area of the lock, then managed to pull away a small drawer filled to the brim with papers.

But as she weighed the drawer in her hands, she narrowed her eyes; it was heavier than it should be. She carefully placed the drawer on the desk, making sure she wouldn't disturb anything in the process, and she sifted through the files. She was taken slightly aback when the files she had been sent to retrieve were there, and tucked them safely away. When she came to about midway, she stopped dead in her tracks.

This wasn't what she had been told to steal, but she knew she couldn't resist anyway, so she raised the large foot-long stone out of the drawer, weighing it in her hands. She was astounded at its colour; a vivid violet with jet black veins stringing through it.

She smiled impishly as she wondered what price she would get for it, and what praise she would get for just taking it in the first place.

As she began to tuck it away as well, she saw it begin to glow faintly. She frowned, ran a magicked hand over it, and paled; it had it's own booby trap. The manor suddenly exploded with sound, which made Mhyre clap her hands over her ears, dropping the stone.

She regained herself and grabbed up the stone just as the door to the study was pushed open. It rebounded off the wall with a resounding clash and she growled at the two men in Watch colours as they spotted her and made for her.

She hissed, discreetly slipped a throwing star from it's pouch, then with the flick of her wrist, she sent it flying. Her unfortunate target didn't see the missile and got it full between the eyes, killing him before he hit the floor.

But Mhyre wasn't planning on sticking around, so while the other Watchman studied his comrade with horror, she dived headlong out of the window. She managed to flip herself upright, still clinging to the stone, and reached out with her free hand to try and catch onto something.

She managed - barely - and kicked off from the wall to land on the ground in a full run. She swiftly made her way through the alley's hoping to confuse any pursuers. She knew she wouldn't get her bounty now; she'd been caught out by her greed.

She almost ran along the wall as she avoided a large stack of pottery that someone had left haphazardly around. She didn't need to look behind her to know that probably the whole city's Watch would be after her; she wouldn't be forgotten, nor did she want to be hung at Traitor's Hill.

As she rounded a corner, she was suddenly yanked by the collar out of the way of another patrol coming in the opposite direction. Her rescuer - or was it captor? - had their hand over her mouth, shutting out any screams she might make.

But she was wise enough to know when to shut up. When the patrols had passed, her captor/rescuer let her go. She rearranged her clothing, making sure the stone was still protectively tucked under her arm, she turned to face them.

She frowned though when they were revealed; the village Tanner. He motioned for her to keep quiet as another patrol trotted past. She obeyed and pressed herself into the shadows, waiting for her chance of escape, both from the Watch and the Tanner.

He seemed a lot smarter than she had first thought and he grabbed her arm again, his eyes dark and warning her not to try anything rash against him.

Once again, she felt cowed - what was going on? She _never_ felt that anyone was superior to her - but glared up at him with reproach. If looks could kill, that man's blood would be cooling right now.

The Tanner glanced about and motioned for her to follow. She did, finally realizing he wouldn't turn her in, clutching the stone to her closely. She didn't know why, but she felt a strange connection to it; as if she were _meant_ to find it.

By the way, I only just realized how to put the chaps on, cause I had a major blond moment...sorry about the inconvenience guys.


	4. The First Step

Hello again! I had a major brainstorm and I had to right/type it before I lost it...and I want to get it over and done with. It's been driving me nuts!

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Mhyre followed the Tanner through the run-down part of the town, keeping him and any escape routes in sight; not that she didn't trust this man, but the adrenaline running through her, kept her on alert.

Time seemed to pass swiftly and she couldn't even try to remember which way they were going, and before she knew it, she was being beckoned inside a large building by a woman with a kind but stern face.

Once inside, she glanced around, taking in her surroundings - again - and light-stepped after the woman. The Tanner had disappeared through a door off to the right and wasn't coming out any time soon.

The smell of food made her mouth water; she could almost taste the roasted chicken that was wafting to her. Sure enough, the woman led her to the kitchen, where she was not the only one who was to be dining - at least twenty other people were crowded around the long dining table, talking, laughing and enjoying themselves.

The woman gave her a plate and she said, 'Get whatever you wish to eat; you won't be feasting in here though. See that door?' She pointed and Mhyre nodded once, still grasping the situation. 'Go there once you have enough food,' she said although quietly, as if she didn't want anyone else to hear.

She left, and Mhyre immediately went to the large table with the food on it. She almost groaned; there was the roast chicken, baked potatoes with onions, carrot and every other edible thing you could think of.

She piled her plate high with the delectable foodstuffs, but was interrupted by a 'With all that food you could feed a small army.' next to her. She cast an angry glance at who the speaker was, but she almost lost it; the speaker was a very - very - handsome young man, who had golden hair and violet eyes.

A very striking combination. So striking that Mhyre couldn't come up with any witty retorts. She glanced away at her plate and he laughed. 'Don't mind my twisted sense of humor; I haven't had my evening drink yet,' he said, grinning wickedly at her.

Mhyre leaned over the table, grabbed a tankard of ale, and let it hover over his head, 'Maybe I should help you with that drink?' she asked sweetly, her eyes innocent but the black paint said otherwise.

He scooted backward as everyone watching saw him challenged, even only minorly by a female, let out a rumbling chuckle and she placed the tankard next to her plate; she'd take that with her into 'the room'. She smiled once more gave him a peck on the cheek - which made everyone laugh harder - and strode away confidently to the side door.

She knocked, the door opened and she went in. She was told to sit down and she did so, slowly. The Tanner was sitting on the other side of the table and he had his arms crossed over his chest.

She nibbled at her food, waiting for conversation to begin. Finally, the Tanner said, 'You have to get out of here you know that? You must leave the town.'

'I do know actually; my brain isn't the size of this pea,' Mhyre replied in an irritable tone, flicking the pea at him.

It got him on the shoulder but he didn't register it; Mhyre just went on eating. It seemed very tense in this room, with Mhyre feeling she had the upper hand, until, 'Show me the stone.'

She froze, her eyes wide as she slowly looked up at him. 'Wh-What? What stone are you talking about?' she stumbled over the inquiry, suddenly on high alert.

'Show. Me. The. Stone,' he said again, leaning over the table to stare her right in the eye. Mhyre - thanking her acting abilities - sighed noncommittally and tossed the stone to him. He looked it over, with the stern-kind woman and another slightly pudgy man studying it over his shoulder.

He tapped it...with a mallet - it made a sound, startling Mhyre but the other three nodded in unison.

Indefinately curious now, Mhyre couldn't help but ask, 'What is it? What are you so sure about?' She narrowed her eyes and the Tanner muttered to the woman, '...yes we'll have to do something about those...and the hair...'

The woman nodded, apparently agreeing with him, studying her...no...not studying...scrutinizing. It made Mhyre squirm with unease; she didn't like the feeling.

The adults talked some more, vaguely gesturing toward her occasionally, until she was frowing irritably and tapping her foot against the leg of the chair.

Finally, the Tanner turned back to her and she leaned forward slightly in her chair eagerly. When he spoke, there was a serious note in his voice, which she took very seriously.

'Look Mhyre-'

'How do you know my name?' she asked suddenly with alarm.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, 'I read your mind alright? Now, Mhyre, you stole this from the Fleetwood Manor did you not?' he asked, now looking her directly in the eye.

She nodded slowly, and he went on, 'Well, what you have found is no ordinary stone.'

'It isn't?' she asked incredulously, 'Then what is it?'

'I was getting to that...it's a dragon egg.'

The way he said the last part - so casually - was astounding to Mhyre. 'A...what? Dragon egg? You're pulling my leg! The only other egg is with Galba-'

'That's what we thought. But it seems that Fleetwood Manor was where someone - ally or otherwise - was hiding this stone. It was hidden, wasn't it?' He raised an eyebrow at her and she mimicked him, replying, 'Yes. I found it in a hidden compartment in the study.'

The Tanner smiled, half-closing his eyes and leaned back in his chair. 'Ailith, please escort our new member to her room,' he said to the stern-faced woman. She nodded and replied, 'Yes of course Thane. Come on girl.' She grabbed one of Mhyre's arms and practically dragged her out of the room.

Thane. Not a very common name is these parts...but then, he didn't have the look of a local. Mhyre's mind went haywire as Ailith half-carried, half-dragged her up a long flight of stairs, where doors were leading off every so often.

Whens he stopped in front of a door that had a strange symbol on it, she turned back to Mhyre who was regaining her footing, 'You will stay here for two days. In there' she pointed to the room, ' you will find clothes, a washbasin, and a pallet you will sleep on.

When she had finished, Mhyre remarked, 'You keep telling me what to do, Ailith, and Thane will have to do with one less sidekick.'

Ailith just smiled and said, 'Thane chose well when he picked you,' then walked downstairs again, Mhyre's bemused gaze following her.

She shook her head and opened the door to her room. She closed it behind her and looked upon the place where she would be staying for two days.

The pallet looked snug and comfortable and was strategically placed beneath the one window, the wardrobe was small, but when she opened it, held an array of different clothing. The washbasin was unremarkable, and the only thing adorning it was a ring of blue and gold around the rim.

She headed for it as soon as she saw it, undressing and throwing her clothes anywhere and bathed, washing the black paint off; the water was warm so she needn't worry about getting a chill, and selected one of the shifts in the wardrobe.

Half-asleep, bathed, and fed, she fell onto the pallet and curled up, clutching the blanket to her, falling into a dreamless, peaceful slumber.

The sun woke her up, the warmth tickling her nose. She brushed at it rolled over, almost bumping into the washbasin table. She opened her eyes slightly, rubbing the sleep from them. She yawned widely, stretching like a cat, then stood, pushing the blanket away from her.

She stood, looking around the room again - two things had changed; a tray of food was waiting for her near the door, and the dragon egg was next to it.

She washed, splashing her face profusely, and chose a linen shirt that laced up at the neck, a leather vest which she left open, suede breeches, and soft doeskin boots from the wardrobe.

She sat down cross-legged and as she ate her breakfast, she read the note that had been placed with it. It told her to go straight downstairs to the same place she had gone last night, bringing the egg with her.

It didn't say why, but she ate slowly, contemplating what could take place. When she had devoured everything edible on the tray, she picked up the egg, tucked it under her arm, and made her way downstairs, remembering every step of the way; her memory was spotless.

She knocked thrice and she was let it by the pudgy man she had seen last night. She still didn't know his name, but he introduced himself as Roger. She sat down in the same seat as before, with Thane staring at her from across the table.

She stared back at him, amused. He smiled devilishly and nodded slightly. Suddenly three girls appeared out of the shadows of the room. Two went to work on her hair, cutting it, while the other did something to her eyes. It was over in moments, but she felt so different.

Her hands went hesitantly to her hair and her eyes widened; it was short. One of the girls held a mirror in front of her, and she inspected her reflection; her hair was no longer almost-black, but a rich, thick brown, and cut to her ears, but it looked like it had been that way forever, and her wide eyes, were not the lavender-magenta...in fact, they were a hazel-green.

Her skin was darker - how they did that she hadn't the faintest clue, and she looked...common. Her disbelieved expression turned to one of amused curiosity. Thane laughed - he should do that more often, she thought, he looks years younger, - and applauded the girls' work.

Mhyre kept running her hands through her hair, only now accepting what she saw, she made it ruffle...it looked good. Very...thiefish. She smiled demonically, admiring her new look.

Thane leaned forward across the table and asked softly, 'Do you like it?' Mhyre grinned at him, looked him in the eye squarely, and said, 'I like very much.' Then she asked, narrowing her new hazel eyes, 'But what's the catch? Hmmm?'

Now it was Thane's turn to grin as he leaned back and said, 'You work for us. Simple.'

'I keep the egg?' she inquired, her eyes narrowing further.

'Aye...you keep the egg too. Now off with you. We have a job for you to do.'

Mhyre bit her lip to keep from exclaiming in delight then rushed out of the room, eager in her excitement.

That night, Mhyre retired to her room exhausted. The day had been full of planning, packing, teaching, talking and readying. As she undressed again to wash, she was glad to know that at least her body hadn't changed.

The hair, eyes and skin were alright; they wouldn't draw too much attention to her, as this guise was what ordinary people of Alagaesia looked like.

After she had washed, and dressed for bed, she leaned against the sill of her window, enjoying the cool, fresh air that ruffled her hair and brushed against her skin. She bathed in the moonlight which seemed to be all the brighter tonight.

Just as she closed her eyes to fully enjoy it, she was interrupted by a shrill squeak. She flinched as her sensitive hearing picked it up much higher than a normal human's would.

She spun round, searching for the sound, with every intention of destroying it. But there was no rat or mouse to be seen and she frowned in puzzlement.

Suddenly another squeak pierced the silence, making her jump. She turned toward the source, following it until she came to...the egg.

She was bemused all the more by it but she tapped the egg anyway, just to see what happened. It jerked, startling her, then began to roll around and around in circles.

Even Mhyre snorted with laughter; it _did_ look quite ridiculous. But then it stopped, which had Mhyre on the alert more than the squeaking had.

She pulled out one of her twin daggers, and tapped the stone again. A crack appeared. Then another, and another, until they all crisscrossed together, making a web.

Then a long, whiplike tail pushed out from the shards. Mhyre raised an eyebrow; the tail was a vivid shade of violet. Then a foreleg sprouted from the other side of the egg. Then a hind leg then the other hind leg, then the other foreleg.

It was all very confusing and she counted how many limbs there were, when the egg suddenly made a tiny explosion, little shards flying everywhere.

Mhyre instinctively threw her hands up in front of her face, and winced as they were cut by the sharp egg pieces.

When she lowered them, her eyes widened in awe; there stood...well stumbled...a baby dragon the size of a small dog. Its hue was vivid violet, but on it's body, it had black lacey patterns adorning it.

It had black spines along it's back and it sported talons, at least a half-inch long, with a serrated edge in the inside curve. They too, were black, as were the tiny horns sprouting from above its ear canal.

It opened surprisingly alert violet eyes, which had a black ring around the iris. Turning it managed to gain balance before seeing her. It gave a loud squeaky rumble in the back of its throat and opened its mouth, displaying the rows of tiny ivory-white teeth.

Mhyre just stared at it with amazement, watching its jerky movements as it explored her room, studying every thing for a moment before moving on.

It's wings made the proportions seem odd, but she thought they were adorable otherwise. They were thin membranes of skin, which she could see, were still slightly wet from the egg.

After watching the little creature for a few minutes, Mhyre decided to save it from hurting itself. But the instant her hand touched the little dragon's hide, she felt a shock go up her arm. A searing heat, then an unbearable cold numbed it, and she bit her lip to stifle the cry of shock and pain that threatened to escape.

She ran to the washbasin and rested her hand in the water, still slightly warm. It took away the pain and numbness somewhat and she dried it, careful not to disturb it.

When she looked around, it seemed that the dragon had suffered a shock too. It was spread-eagled on it's back, with it's tail wound around it's own hind legs.

Now Mhyre bit back a choke of laughter; this dragon was outrageous. Still giggling quietly, she rolled the dragon over with the hilt of her dagger, watching as it slowly got to it's feet.

It looked up at her with its big eyes and she couldn't suppress the chuckle as she said, 'I can't stay mad at you for long can I?'

The dragon lurched itself toward her, and she jumped back. But she wasn't quick enough, and when the little creature brushed her leg, she braced for the shocking numbness again...but nothing happened.

She gasped in surprise and kneeled down to examine the creature further. It crawled up to her, climbing up into her lap, coiling its tail around her forearm and burying its head under her arm.

She sat like that for a long time, just staring at the little scaly body that was snuggled to hers. The dragon let out rhythmic humming sounds, and she smiled, standing up and carefully making her way to her pallet.

She set the dragon down on her blanket and it buried itself in it, humming contentedly. She joined it and it squirmed toward her warmth. It rested it's head on her waist and she laid her arm over its back.

For once in her life, she felt safe...

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There you go...ugh. Finally I GOT IT OUT! I hope you all like it.


	5. A Name?

Thanks for all the reviews! Gawsh when I started writing this, I never expected to more than a few! Anyway, this chapter is when Mhyre's on the road; she's traveling from Kuasta by the way...ANYWAY! It took me ages coz I've been working a lot lately. Ack! Here it is...I hope you like it...

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Mhyre woke groggily to a soft snuffing sound next to her ear. Instinctively she shrugged her shoulder and the snuffle turned into a low, commanding growl. She opened an eye and immediately was pounced upon by her dragon, which had grown remarkably these past few days on the road.

She let out a soft 'oof!' as it landed squarely on her stomach, momentarily winding her. 'Gerroff me! Alright I'll feed you, you little trickster!' she said, picking the dragon up by its hind legs like a chicken.

It wailed indignantly as she stood and carried it over to their pack of supplies. Mhyre was thanking she was alone on this job, or else she'd have to put up with a disgruntled - human - companion.

She was heading for Belatona, the large town south of the Leona Lake, for apparently there was someone there she had to speak to.

She opened the pack and rummaged through it, looking for the meat strips she would feed the dragon. When she had retrieved six, she sat down cross-legged, and released the creature.

It wobbled for a moment, and then turned to her expectantly, staring at the food. She ripped the meat into smaller pieces, feeding them to the hatchling one at a time.

She had long since learned that it would not bite her fingers, but she was wary, and in any case; it was her nature. The dragon seemed to realize this and was extra careful when eating, not wanting to nip her fingers and destroy the frail trust they had for one another.

When they had finished, Mhyre sighed, making her now always-ruffled hair flutter. She stood and the dragon bounced with excitement; it knew what would come next. After breakfast, she would always try to teach it how to fly. The dragon loved this.

She picked it up, resting her hands beneath its feet, then pushed it up, letting it flare its wings and flap them gently. Every day it had been getting stronger, and today could be the day when it finally flew on its own.

Sure enough, after only a few moments of this mini-flight, it started to continuously raise its wings, bringing them back down, lifting itself from her hands. She gave it one last push and the dragon screeched, flinging its miniature body into the air, flapping its wings harshly.

Mhyre whooped after it as it looked back at her, bewildered and let its wings take over their instinctive impulses.

She watched it for an hour, just winging about, getting used to the feeling. She was still awed by the animal, but she hadn't yet named it.

It seemed that giving it a title would seal it with her, making it permanently connected with her. She had felt, many times these past few days, a brush against her consciousness, trying to draw her away from her body.

At first she had shoved it away, alarmed. But after a while, it became comforting, as if it had always been there. As if the dragon knew she was thinking about it, it let a small tendril of thought and emotion touch her mind.

She smiled, sighed, and then began to pack her bedroll away, thinking deeply. It was expected for her to bond completely with this animal...but she didn't want the responsibility that came with it.

She clucked her tongue, her thoughts running away with her, telling her what she'd have to do were the dragon spotted and found by either the Empire, or the Varden. Both were the extremities in this country, and they frustrated her.

Mhyre stood, went over to her pack, and exchanged the bedroll for a breast band; she'd be disguised as a boy who was on an errand for an impatient Lord. Hopefully no-one would ask questions, but if they did, Mhyre had a solution...kill them or run like her life depended on it.

Even though she had a way with words, Thane had instructed her not to try and talk her way out of something; it would get her into trouble later otherwise.

She secured the breast band correctly, and pulled her tunic over the top, folding the sleeves back to her elbows. Then she quickly slipped into her breeches, tying the leather thong that kept them about her hips.

That had been another problem; she didn't exactly have a masculine figure. But Ailith had done some small amount of magic on her clothes and shoulders so she would look at least mostly male. The rest was Mhyre's problem. So far she had been lucky enough to avoid most caravans, carts or wagons, but she had a feeling her luck was soon to run out.

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Later that week, as she rode casually on the road to Belatona, she felt that time had come. She pulled on the reins of her horse, Hwurst, and rested a comforting hand on the dragon's head as it had begun to growl and flare its wings.

'Shh! Dragon! Do you want to get us killed? I know there is someone here!' she whispered urgently, and the creature stilled somewhat. She had had to make the creature walk beside her, for it was too large to keep in her saddlebags anymore.

She let out the breath she had been holding, and glanced around, scanning the area. Suddenly, the air changed; nothing was moving, or making a sound. The birds had stopped singing, and the crickets had stopped chirping; something was definitely wrong.

Mhyre looked behind her, but nothing moved. Suspicious, she sent out a magical 'wave' of focus, trying to determine where the trouble was. Thane had taught it to her, although it was still weak. But it was enough; even the dragon glared at the bend that was ahead.

Mhyre dismounted quickly, grabbed the dragon by one of its horns and led Hwurst into the forest that was beside the road, and she didn't stop until she knew that they wouldn't be spotted by any travelers.

Then, she secured the dragon's horn again and set off, her daggers concealed in her boots.

She followed the forest to the bend, but stopped when her keen ears picked up all too familiar sounds - skirmish. She got down on her stomach, and wriggled toward the large outcrop of rock, that would no doubt look over the fighting.

Sure enough, when she peeked over, the dragon let out a whimper - soldiers were attacking a band of travelling farmers, obviously on their way to Surda with supplies to the Varden; it was common knowledge now that the band of rebels had fled to King Orrin's kingdom.

But she didn't have any compelling feeling of which side to fight for. Her decision was made for her as the first man she saw die, was one of the Varden.

Myre's eyes flashed angrily and she knew she couldn't resist but to join the shambles. She knelt, pulled out her daggers and readied herself, the dragon growling over her shoulder; it seemed eager to get involved as she was. She began to like the creature a little more.

She crept on the outskirts of the forest, waiting for a victim to get close enough. There! She darted out of the shadows, grabbed her target's throat in one hand, and slit it with the other which was holding both daggers. She cut a smile from ear to ear and chuckled grimly as he went down.

She flipped back into the shadows and tucked a dagger away before reaching out and grabbing the fallen soldiers' sword. It was a bit heavy for her, but it would have to do.

She left the dragon to choose it's own target and crept over to a large tree which had branches extending every which way, and it just so happened to have a branch overlooking three soldier's fighting the Varden, 'merchants' below.

By placing her dagger between her teeth, and using the sword to help haul her up, she climbed the tree swiftly and quickly.

She light-stepped across the branch that gave her an unblocked vision of what was happening below her and she smiled demonically.

She carefully straightened to her full height, extended her arms out, holding the sword like a baton, and stepped off the branch.

At the moment before impact, she threw all of her weight behind the fall, so that when she landed on a soldiers' back, there was a loud snap which signaled she had broken it.

She deftly plunged the sword into the back of his neck, killing him, before leaping away from the fallen man's comrade, who clearly wished to behead her.

Mhyre rolled, holding out a foot to skid to a halt to make sure she didn't get too close to the Empire's force.

She turned back to face the angry soldier, and as he charged at her, she put on a suddenly intimidated front and braced herself.

But at the last moment, she ducked underneath the attack and dove between his legs, getting to her feet behind him.

Mhyre didn't even look behind her as she plunged the dagger into the man's ribs, breaking several, before whipping the sword around, beheading him from behind.

She heard him fall behind her and she boredly tucked her dagger away and bent to pick up the headless man's sword. 'You won't be needing this...or this,' she said to him as she cut his purse as well.

As she sprang to engage another soldier in battle, a roar echoed across the clearing, and out onto the plains.

She glanced over to the source and felt a sudden rush of pride; the dragon was tearing apart soldiers left right and center, as if they were rag dolls. But it wasn't just that - it had grown at its first taste of human blood.

The lacey marking on its back were standing out as it plunged all of the talons on one paw through an already-screaming soldier.

The dragon flicked it away, suddenly bored with it, and the dragons head lunged forward, and the already blood-stained teeth ripped off another man's head clean off his shoulders.

The dragon's lust for blood didn't cloud everything else though, as it's fiery gaze turned to six soldiers who had been trying to circle around it. They froze in fright, and the dragon seemed to smile evilly at them just before its tail, previously unseen, coiled, and then sprang out, whipping the men's feet out from under them, and making them soar outward.

The Varden pointed their pikes at the falling soldiers. There was a sickening squelching sound as they collided with the sharp heads of the pikes, and Mhyre had to look away from the gory sight.

Her eyes flew open again however as an unmistakably male voice in her head shouted, _Look out! Behind you!_

Mhyre's instinctive reaction was to sidestep the desperate attack and bash the soldiers' skull in with the hilt of one of her swords.

The Varden had managed to herd the rest of the attackers into a shoal and surrounded them. Mhyre watched as they picked off the ones who tried to escape or those who stood out.

She ran over to join them, getting the hang of their attack quickly; out of the thirty members of the Varden left there, about twenty would false attack a soldier, forcing their guard up high over their heads. Then the other ten - not including Mhyre - would run around the group, their weapons held at midriff height, and cut them down.

Finally, Mhyre felt she had done enough and darted out of the thick of it. She made her way back to the forest and a voice asked her, _Where are you going kitten?_

She froze, found where the source of the voice was and replied, _Who are you?_ in a voice that threatened that there was no escape from the question.

The voice gasped and in mock hurt said_, Oh you hurt me deeply kitten. Can you not even chance a guess?_ then let out a devilish chuckle.

Mhyre glanced back over toward the battle field and narrowed her eyes; the dragon was there no longer. But her focus wavered though, when she heard a rumbling sound behind her.

She spun round and checked the surprised shout that threatened to escape from her; there was her dragon. It chuckled again and Mhyre no had no doubts as to who the voice belonged to. 'You? You're talking to me?' she asked aloud and her jaw dropped when the dragon nodded slowly.

'Oh Delwyn...' she gasped out. Delwyn was a human God, patron of thieves, assassins and also travelers. His familiar was the tiercel - a young male falcon. But Delwyn also had his side-affects - he was the sender of nightmares and stirred up treachery and betrayal in a worshipper, although it was very rare.

The dragon seemed to smile, displaying its teeth. When it had grown, it had only grown enough so that the hollow between its neck and shoulders was big enough to fir her, so it's head was merely a few inches above hers.

But it was such a big contrast between the baby, and now the apparent adolescent that stood before her. She reached out a hand and rubbed the dragon's nose who closed its eyes lazily.

'Are you a male?' she asked aloud. The dragon opened its eyes fully and nodded. Aha...now she'd have to start thinking of the dragon as a _Him_. Not an _It_.

_Do you have a nam__e? _she asked telepathically. She was still getting used to it so she was unsure as to how she was doing it.

He shook his head slowly, looking at her curiously. Suddenly Mhyre felt as if she'd known him all her life, and wondered how she had lived with the...the _incomplete_ feeling she'd had.

She bit her lip, still shocked in her awe. _Well, I'd best give you one shouldn't I?_ she asked, hoping he would be patient for her and wait until she had gathered her wits again.

_Yes, you should. I only have one request,_ he replied, tilting his head slightly. She nodded and he went on, _I wish it to start with a 'Z'._

Mhyre frowned, straining her memory for the hasty alphabet she had been taught. 'Z' was the last letter she remembered. Well it was a start. _Alright, I'll do some thinking for your name,_ she said, once more in control.

_We'll be on the road for a few more days so it should be-_

_Silence,_ he commanded suddenly. Just as she was about to retort, she understood why; it was silent. She whirled back to the clearing and narrowed her eyes; it seemed the Varden was searching for the dragon.

_Well it_ is, the dragon said, _understandable isn't it?_ _I am attractive after all,_ he said.

_Vain,_ she replied shaking her head smiling; she and the dragon would get along well.

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Please review! Please! I'll give you cookies!


	6. Zakvhael

_Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry -inhales- Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry…_

**Chapter 6**

_Mhyre_, a voice said in her head, _the sun is about to rise. You must wake! _An exhalation of frustrated air blew across her nose. She swiped at it, opening an eye to stare at her dragon, which looked just the slightest bit miffed.

_You're supposed to set a good example you know! I don't want to have to wake you up every morning, _he growled. As she sat up, scowling at the large lizard, he sat back on his haunches, watching her stretch and yawn.

_Good morning to you too sunshine_, she grumbled mentally and pushed her blanket off her. 'Z' dragon just watched her with a slightly superior eye as she dressed, and she turned away from him. Out of modesty she told herself.

As Mhyre sat down, eating her breakfast of cold cheese and hard biscuit, she rested her chin in her hand. How was she supposed to blend in if she had a twenty-foot long lizard peeking over her shoulder?

She sighed, and Z dragon tilted his head at her. _I've been thinking the same thing myself_, he said, and looked at the ground. _Perhaps I could just fly? And act as a scout._

'But you'd have to remain hidden…' Mhyre said, thinking aloud. 'What if…you were in sight of me during the day, and then by night you could travel with me, on foot…at least we won't have people running to telling everyone else another dragon has hatched.'

_Ah, but what chaos and such a big shambles it would bring!_ Z dragon said with an almost dreamy look clouding his violet eyes. Mhyre grinned evilly – this dragon and she were far too much alike – and nodded. Then her smile faded as she said, _Except, I don't want to be hunted…not just yet anyway. Not when I know so little about you._ She sighed again and gingerly swallowed her last biscuit. _I need more supplies anyway and that would mean civilisation. Something you do not need._

Z dragon chuckled in her mind, and inquired, _What? More humans adoring me? Ah, now that would over inflate my ego._

'As is it wasn't big enough already…' Mhyre muttered, grateful that Z dragon did not hear her.

xXx

As she followed the road again later that week, she kept occasionally glancing to her left where she could see a shadow less than half a league behind her, flit from one cloud to another.

It gave her comfort to know that she had finally someone who had the same degree of sarcastic cunning, and the same amount of independence, to be able to understand her, and keep up with her thoughts.

_Belatona never seemed this far away on the map did it?_ She asked Z dragon. She heard him chuckle and say, _Well, distance to a dragon is quite different to a human, kitten. _

She rolled her eyes; he seemed to have an attachment with her new nickname, and had used it many times since they had started out that morning. At first she had protested, but at his insistence of using it, she had let him, for the sake of a comfortable journey.

But she sensed that travelling with a dragon, her journey could hardly be a quiet one. She smiled and nudged her horse into a gallop, leaning forward, letting the wind flow over her sleekly.

Hwurst, she had found, loved to run. She also found, that when galloping, she could trust him a free rein for he never strayed too far from the road. Mhyre tapped the swords she had stolen from the soldiers.

She had thought perhaps she could sell one, to get money for supplies. At that thought, she looked back, keeping her eyes half-closed. She had been paranoid that someone was following her.

She couldn't blame them, since she had announced herself so abruptly and magnificently – with Z dragon of course – that just about anyone could track her.

She faced back to her front however when Hwurst suddenly crumpled beneath her. Mhyre cried out in surprise as she half-leapt off his back, to soften her impact in the grass. She rolled to a halt on her back, her eyes wide and her face and hair smudged with dirt.

She took in rapid breaths as she sat up, glaring at her horse, but gaped in dismay as she saw the three arrows poking out from his chest. _Oh Delwyn…_she thought.

_Mhyre! Are you alright?_ Z dragon asked her, concern plain in his voice.

_What kind of question is that?_ she asked, enraged. _I've just been tossed off my now-dead horse, been knocked half-unconscious, AND YOU ASK ME IF I'M ALRIGHT! OF COURSE I'M NOT!_

_Sorry, _Zdragon said, sounding a little hurt, _I was just asking._ Mhyre sighed and crouched, brushing away her disorientation. _Wait kitten! Don't move! I see something._

Obeying, Mhyre froze, all of a sudden not minding the nickname at all. But she did peek out from the long grass, and saw the black shadow with angry purple eyes, bank over to where he had seen the threatening movement.

All she saw were trees and their silhouettes, standing innocently still…as all trees should. However, Z dragon had seen something she did not, and she – for once – patiently waited for his verdict.

_Wait a moment…they're humans. Dressed as those others were… In red and black._ Mhyre almost snorted at the irony, patting herself on the back mentally for her gut instincts.

_How are they armed?_ She asked, wishing she had her swords, but since they were with Hwurst, she didn't dare creep out.

_With bows. That's all,_ Z dragon replied, and Mhyre scowled.

_Alright. I need you to be my eyes. Tell me where one is and I'll try to hit him. First one? _she commanded him fitting the star comfortably in her hand.

_Uhm…the closest one to you is…are you facing the forest? Alright. Did you see that tree that looked like it had arms? Standing beneath that one__ with the robin's nest._

Mhyre had indeed spotted that gnarled tree, and half-turned her body so the force behind the star would give it the right amount of momentum to reach her target.

_Is it…there?_ She asked as she rose, spinning and loosing her throwing star. Immediately, arrows were shot at her, but they stopped as one of their men fell, a four pointed, spiral star stuck in his throat.

_Nice aim kitten! Next one?_

As a team, with Z dragon relaying each of their co-ordinates, Mhyre took another two out, until the last one suddenly disappeared from Z dragon's view.

_Halt! Where's he gone_? He demanded, landing, looking from side to side, his neck tensing.

Mhyre sat still as she waited for Z dragon to spot him. She yelped and stood however, when it seemed the soldier had found Z dragon first.

Z dragon roared and winced slightly as the soldier's arrow pierced his wing. His head swung round to bare his teeth and growl at the man, but recoiled, narrowly dodging the rock he had thrown at the dragon.

Z dragon whipped his tail against the soldier's back, causing him to fall forward. The dragon raised a paw to crush the man, and seemed to smile evilly as he brought his foot down with all of his weight.

Mhyre turned away from the sight, but could still hear the squelching sound of organs bursting, and the cracks of ribs breaking.

When she had mustered up the courage to look back, Z dragon was waiting for her, laying on the middle of the road, his head tilted slightly at her.

His paw was bloodstained and covered in she-didn't-want-to-know-what, but he seemed perfectly calm, his tail swishing from side to side like a puppy.

Mhyre placed her fists on her hips and stared at him. Suddenly, a smile broke over her face.

_What?_ Z dragon asked curiously, blinking once, clearly puzzled.

_I think I know what your name is,_ she replied, feeling proud of herself.

_Oh? What might that be?_ he had a slightly dangerous glint in his eye, as if already knowing. But since he had access to her thoughts, she didn't know why that should surprise her.

_It's someone you remind me of. You know Delwyn's favourite minion? _She asked, returning his look.

_Ahh…you mean__**-**_

_Zakvhaêl. He's not necessarily a dragon…but he's just as sly and merciless as you are.__ And he adores chaos_

The dragon took a moment to think about his new name, then nodded once, liking it. _Zakvhaêl. Huh…Not bad…for a human._

'I'll call you Zak for short. I can barely pronounce Zakvhaêl as it is!' Mhyre said aloud. Then she glanced at her dead horse and sighed. 'That wasn't fair,' she muttered as she gathered her belongings.

_Zak? Could you…? _She asked, handing her things out to him.

_Do I look like a packhorse to you?!_ Zak asked helplessly.

_You do right this moment…_Mhyre said, grinning crookedly.

_Hmph,_ Zak snorted, but crouched so that she could sling her pack over the hollow near his neck and shoulder joints. That done, she reluctantly let Zak eat…yes EAT…Hwurst.

He was a clean eater, for such a chaotic mind and left no trace of her beloved horse, which made her feel a little better. No-one but them would know what happened here.

'Now, for an alternative means of transport…' Mhyre pondered. 'Walking will do.' She decided and shrugged, starting to head off.

However, Zak tapped her shoulder with a claw and as she turned to look at him, curious, he crouched again. _Climb on._

Mhyre blinked once in surprise then a worried look came over her features. _What if someone sees us? You're not exactly the most inconspicuous creature I've ever seen_, she pointed out.

Zak's solution was simple.

_Kill them._

Mhyre bit back a grin and looked at the ground. _Alright then. Let's give this a try,_ she succumbed.

xXx

You can kill me some other time honestly…I am a biatch for letting this fanfic fall into a coma and I have no excuse so…my bad. But I'm back…but I may not be able to update this fic as often as I want to; I HAVE SOME BADASS HOMEWORK TO DO NOWADAYS!! -promptly faints- I will be ecstatically happy if you are kind enough to review, but if not then I'll try to win myself back into your hearts…

T.T Keyword TRY

Oh…and no flames…please.


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